10 November 2005

murphy's law

it has been almost three months since our good friend Joel spent precious time carrying our boxes to the post office in Redlands and mailing them to us. And we have received seven of the nine boxes he mailed, as well as all of the boxes Liz, Simone, and Mom kindly mailed from Denver, which contained our books, so as academics that's key. But of course, the two boxes missing contain some interesting and crucial items, things we've actually been missing despite the fact that even having sent less than 20 boxes o' stuff, we *still* have too much crap.

One box is Sam's clothes, one box is mine. In Sam's box (we think) we are missing the cold-weather running pants and shirts and his mid-weight corduroy coat, all of which would be perfect for this weather, of course. In my box I'm missing my entire black suit, the upper half of my new JJill suit (don't ask why I separated it—you try packing for a hypothetical move 4 months in advance), a lovely mid-weight London Fog coat, and my red wool turtleneck with the obnoxious elbow patches that reference old professors just enough without taking away any claim to "sexy young woman" I might still retain.

Our friends in Edinburgh had a bit more of a chaotic departure from the US and thus don't have a precise count of their boxes but we both suffer from this nagging feeling of: where is that thing? Did we leave it in storage? is it on the Atlantic somewhere? did these two boxes get diverted via New Orleans before the hurricane? did I give that away in a fit of puritanical, anti-materialist rage?

And then the last thought: does this mean I get a fun shopping spree for new stuff??

In the epic trip from Seattle to Delaware (via Minnehaha) in 1994, two boxes of books, I came to find out, exploded in a postal distribution center. It seems these boxes travel at a high rate of speed along the conveyor belts and when there's a pile-up, kaboom! I lost my Austen and Lawrence libraries. Really very sad.